


One Chance

by WithTheKeyIsKing



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BAMF Harry Potter, BAMF Hermione Granger, F/M, Gray Harry, Gray Hermione, Powerful Harry, Powerful Hermione, Smart Harry, Smart Hermione Granger, Teacher Harry Potter, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Young Tom Riddle
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-04 08:00:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6649117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WithTheKeyIsKing/pseuds/WithTheKeyIsKing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The war is lost. Instead of giving in, Harry and Hermione go back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Chance

The past eight months of Harry's life had been spent running.

Well, if he was being honest, he had really been running since Bill and Fluer's wedding five years ago. All the way until that fateful day at Hogwarts, when one of the most serious battles in the history of the war took place, and then past that, as well. Running, running, running, never really stopping. Never a moment to rest or recuperate, never a day that wasn't filled with fear or nervous glances over shoulders.

Eight months ago, though, everything seemed to take a step up. Death Eater raids were more and more frequent, the prices on the _Undesirables_ went up drastically, and it became harder and harder to find a friendly face in both the wizarding world and the muggle one. Voldemort's forces were taking over everything, and they were determined to find those who had slipped through their fingers after the Battle of Hogwarts.

It had been three and a half months since Harry had seen Hermione, five since he'd seen anyone else on his side. Sometimes, when Harry was holed up in some dark and dank place without anything to stay warm with except simple warming charms (that always wore off far too quickly), Harry would try and picture his friends. He'd imagine them safe and happy, warm and cared for. He'd imagine that they had escaped to Australia, the one place that had so far been safe from Voldemort's wrath.

But then he would hear reports that stated that Hermione _(Undesirable #3)_ had been spotted in Scotland, or that someone had heard rumors that Dumbledore _(Undesirable #2)_ was in America, or that Ron had been killed in battle (and oh, how Harry had screamed upon hearing that). The day Luna was captured was the day that Harry came out of hiding. He knew he couldn't save herthere were too many surrounding herbut he knew he could save her a lot of pain. He cast the curse that he'd become far too familiar with, and then slipped into the night once more.

Harry was the lucky one who had the title of _Undesirable Number One._ That title was the reason he couldn't show his face to anyone; it was the reason he had become a master of glamour spells so that he could travel into town to get food without fear of being sold out; it was the reason he had forced Hermione to leave himeven though she was _Number Three_ on the list, she was much safer away from him.

She had argued, of course. She had screamed and cried and batted at his chest with her fists as he held her. She had made him promise to not leave her, promise that they were in this together. And he had, of course he had. He loved her with everything that he was, and he would've promised her the world if he could have given it to her. But no matter his promise, he had promised himself long ago to do everything in his power to protect her. So he left.

Harry was running _(running, always running)_ from Death Eaters like he always was. He didn't know how they'd found him; maybe someone had come across him in the night and had called them; maybe his glamour had failed while he was in some random town and the people had caught sight of his scar. Frankly, it didn't really matter _how_ the Death Eaters found him, just that they did, and they were closing in, and he'd dropped his wand.

Dropping his wand wasn't too big of a problemHarry had mastered wandless and nonverbal magic years agobut not having it made him feel a little less safe, a little less in control, than he knew he was. Plus, it was his last remaining link to the life he had lived before everything went to shit. Before his life had been ripped away from him for some pointless war.

The Death Eaters were calling out to him, shouting insults and random things that Harry didn't try to figure out. They were closing in, and Harry wasn't able to put his full attention into attacking them back, since most of his focus was on not tripping over some goddamn root of a tree in the forest they were in. Also, he was putting a lot of energy into his shield to keep their spells from hitting him.

Harry looked back for a split second and tripped, tumbling down and down until he reached the bottom of a small incline. The back of his head slammed against the ground and pain radiated from the spot outward, muddling his thoughts and making everything seem far away. Distantly he knew that he had to keep moving, had to run, but he couldn't connect the feeling to the reason behind it; his mind was too clouded.

He heard someone moving nearby, close enough that Harry could smell the scent coming off of them (a mixture of sweat and earth and something distinctly flowery). The person said something, but he heard it as if he was under water. A head leaned into his view, blocking the sun from above, but Harry couldn't make out any of the person's features except for a halo of golden-brown around the person's face. He fell into unconsciousness just as the person grabbed his wrist and the tug of apparition clenched in his gut.

* * *

The bed Harry ended up waking up in was soft and warm and soothing, which instantly made him wary. Harry hadn't been in an actual bedlet alone a _soft_ and _soothing_ onein at least two years.

After scanning the room for any noises and coming to the conclusion that he was alone, Harry opened his eyes and sat up. The room he was in was small, about the size of the room he had stayed in at the Dursleys', and was painted in light blues and white. The window by the bed was open, and a wind chime was hanging by one of the shutters, making eerie music in the quiet.

Harry spotted his wand on the bedside table and picked it up, moving cautiously towards the door. He cast a nonverbal _Homenum Revelio;_ it told him that there were three people in the _he cast another quick spell_ four room, one floor house, all of them in one room. If Harry listened very closely he could hear the murmur of voices, and the creak of the floorboards as someone came towards his room. _Wait._

Harry jumped back from the door and rose his wand, falling easily into a fighting stance, a curse ready on his lips. The doorknob turned and then the door creaked open, a figure shorter than him stepping through the doorway, dressed in worn out and slightly dirty muggle clothes, frizzy brown hair hanging in lively strands to the bottom of her chin, a wand held firmly in her hand. It was _Hermione._

Harry breathed her name, his arm falling limp at his side, and stepped forward. His hand cupped her cheek and she leaned into his touch, her eyes sliding closed as she sighed. Harry stepped closer, wanting nothing more than to kiss her, but then her eyes popped open, this time burning with fury, and her lips thinned. Harry jumped back, recognizing that look as one to be wary of.

"Hermione-"

"How _dare_ you!" Hermione cut him off, taking a threatening step forward. "How dare you, Harry James Potter! Three and a half months, Harry! _Three and a half months_ since you left me alone in an abandoned library in the middle of the night. Do you know how scared I was? Do you even understand how terrifying that was? You just left! You _promised_ that you would stay and then you were gone. I searched for you, the only thing keeping up my hope was the fact that I knew Vol... _You-Know-Who_ would make your death public knowledge."

She was crying by the end of her speech, wiping at the tears angrily, and Harry moved forward to hold her. She glared at him when he tried but he didn't let that deter him, no matter how terrifying Hermione could be when she was mad. For a few seconds, Hermione tried to push him away, but eventually let her hold him, wrapping her arms around him and sniffling every once in a while.

They stayed like that for a while; Harry pressing light kisses to Hermione's hair, his hands rubbing soothing circles on her back, Hermione with her arms wrapped tightly around his midsection, her face tucked into his neck as she cried silently. Harry could feel tears in his eyes, as well. The relief at seeing her alive and ok was overwhelming.

Eventually, she squeezed him one last time and then pulled away, wiping at her eyes and giving him a weak smile.

"I missed you, 'Mione," He said softly, slipping his hand into hers. He smiled and twirled a few strands of her hair around his finger. "You cut your hair." Her chin jutted out defiantly. "I like it," he clarified with a grin, and she grinned back.

"Damn right you do," she said, lightly punching his shoulder, "I had to cut it because it was getting too hard to take care of in our life on the run; it was just easier to chop most of it off than to try and keep it nice." She stopped, content to just stand with him for a while, and then sighed, tugging him towards the door. "Come on, Harry. There's some people you need to see and things to be discussed."

Harry followed her down a short, narrow hallway; they passed a door that was halfway open, a toilet and bathtub seeable. The hallway ended and opened into a large sitting room. It was open and airy, with sunlight filtering in through many windows, and dust particles were seeable in the light, floating around through the air. The couches and chairs were plush and soft-looking, and a light blue color. Sitting across from each other were Snape and Dumbledore.

"Sit down, my boy," Dumbledore said gravely, the forever-there twinkle in his eyes diminished greatly, "we have a lot to discuss."

The black-haired wizard followed the Headmaster's direction, sitting himself down in the plush arm chair next to Dumbledore. Hermione perched on the edge of the arm, her hip balanced against the large arm, one foot dangling in the air. Across from them, Snape scowled at Harry and crossed his arms over his chest, body tense as a live wire.

"As I'm sure all of you can agree, the war is all but over. The Order of the Pheonix has practically been disbanded with so many members gone, and so many deaths weigh on my conscience." He paused, staring off into space for a few moments before continuing. "A month ago, a special devise came into my possession. This devise had the ability to do what no Time Turner has ever done; it can send a group of people back  _years_ into the past. For our use, it will be sending two people back to nineteen-forty."

Harry frowned, putting the pieces together. "You want to send Hermione and I back to nineteen-forty to when Tom Riddle was-" he did the math, "-thirteen or fourteen years old to do...what, exactly? You want us to kill him?"

"No, my dear boy," Dumbledore said, the twinkle returning to his eyes, "killing him would cause too many ripples through time. I want the two of you take care of himto  _join_ him."

* * *

Dumbledore made the plan seem simple. The next month of their lives would be spent training in every kind of magic; they would be taught occlumency (which Harry and Hermione had both become pretty good at in their time on the run, but there was room for improvement) and legilimency, along with all types of magiceven the dark arts. Snape was insistent that they learn the basics of the darts arts, because if they were to be accepted by Riddle, then they needed to have similar interests as the boy.

The month passed far more quickly than either Harry or Hermione wanted it to. They had become incredibly skilled occlumens, their mental barriers even strong enough to keep Snape out, and passable legilimens. They both hated the fact that they were quite good at the dark artsable to cast most of the spells non-verbally alreadybut both understood that it was a necessary evil.

Their cover story was easy. Harry was almost twenty-three and Hermione actually was, so they would posing as a married couple; Harrison and Hermione Gaunt, Riddle's cousins. Harrison Gaunt had a Defense Mastery, so he would be working as the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher (after he had a talk with the 1940 Dumbledore), which is how he would learn about his cousin Merope's dear son and go to save him from the horrible muggle orphanage.

Snape had also taught the pair how to play the role of the spy. Both Harry and Hermione were going into the past with a hatred for Voldemort and a caring towards muggles, but they couldn't let it show around the young Tom Riddle. If Tom suspected that his new aunt and uncle despised him or that they actually  _liked_ muggles, then they would immediately alienate the boy.

On the day before they would travel into the past, Harry took a dangerous journey into Diagon Ally. He had to go to Gringotts and empty his vault, so that they would be rich and well off when in nineteen-forty. The goblins didn't care about wizarding wars, so anyonewanted criminal or prominent Death Eatercould enter the bank and do business with them. All you had to do was get past the Death Eaters patrolling the rest of Diagon Ally.

Hermione wanted to go with him, but Harry convinced her that staying behind at the small cottage was the better option; if both of them went and got caught, then the mission would be over, but if it was just Harry and only Harry got caught, then Hermione could still follow through with their task. Hermione didn't like it, but with Snape and Dumbledore backing his decision, Harry managed to convince her.

The group decided that, although polyjuice potion was the most convincing desguise to use, that there were too many risks involved with the potion. It could wear off too soon, or someone could recognize "him" and try to start up a conversation, or any number of other things. They decided to go with a glamour, a powerful one, applied by all four of them onto Harry, and a notice-me-not charm just in case.

Harry entered Diagon Ally through the Leaky Cauldron, nodding politely to anyone who glanced at him, but their eyes quickly slid away, the charm working very well. He tapped out the pattern on the brick wall and waited as it opened, then walked out into Diagon Ally, holding his breath the whole time.

He reached the bank without incident, the few Death Eaters walking around barely even glanced his way, but if they did, they simply looked away, already forgetting him, just like he wanted. There wasn't a waiting line inside the bank (barely anyone wanted to come out of their homes with the war raging around them), so Harry simply strolled up to one of the goblin stations. The goblin glared at him, but Harry didn't take any offense; Goblins glared at everyone.

"Hello," Harry said politely, "I'd like to empty out all of my vaults and take everything with me. I have an extendable trunk and bag with me, so I should me able to do this, correct?"

The goblin frowned at him, looking suspicious, but eventually nodded. "Of course, Mr..." Harry didn't offer his name, and the goblin grumbled. "Do you have your key, then?"

Harry nodded, and pulled it out of his inside robe pocket, setting it on the desk in front of him. The goblin picked it up and his eyes widened upon recognizing it, looking intently at Harry. "Well then, I understand. You would like to withdraw everything, then, Mr.-" Harry's breath caught in his throat, praying that the goblin wouldn't say his name, "-Evans? Follow me, I will take you there."

Three insane roller coaster rides later (one to reach his vault with all his money, another to go to the one with all of his family items and heirlooms, and the last to return to the surface), Harry was strolling back through Gringotts' main door, a miniaturized trunk filled with objects in one pocket, and a bag with an extension charm filled with his vast amounts of money in other.

Soon enough, Harry was back at the little cottage that had become something of a home, though Harry hadn't really let himself get too attached, since he would have to leave it very soon. Harry showed his acquirements to the three other people involved in this crazy mission, and they took the left-over time they had to sort through the objects in the trunk. Harry and Hermione spent the night wrapped in each others arms.

The next morning they gathered their things. Dumbledore had gotten them each a wardrobe of both muggle and wizarding clothes styled for the time period they were going to, which was held in one trunk (with an extendable charm on it), with the objects from Harry's vault in another one. The bag with all of their money was in Harry pocket, while Hermione's own extendably-charmed bag (still carrying all of their old possessions) in her own pocket.

The whole process was quite simple, which surprised both Harry and Hermione. Dumbledore had set the devise to the date they were headed to (August first, 1940a month before Tom was to start his third year at Hogwarts) already, so all there was to do was press a button to open the Time Portal and step through it, exactly sixty-two (minus a day) years in the past.

"This is a one way trip," Dumbledore warned, even though he had told them this multiple times before. "This is your last chance to walk away from this mission; your last chance to attempt at having a normal life."

Harry and Hermione looked at each other and grasped each others hands. "There's no chance at a normal life, not anymore." Then they stepped through the portal.


End file.
